


End of the Dream

by MissClaraOswinOswald



Series: Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016 [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly Appreciation Week, exile (AU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissClaraOswinOswald/pseuds/MissClaraOswinOswald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 6 of Sherlolly Appreciation Week :Exile (AU). Molly spends one last day at 221b with Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	End of the Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day 6! Trigger warning for those who need it: mention of drug use, implied suicide attempt. It's quite dark, so be warned. Please comment or leave kudos if you enjoyed this!

**Please stop by at Baker Street tonight, at 19:30 - SH**

_Delivered at 16:30_

_Read at 16:40_

No reply.

Sherlock was granted one last day at 221b before his exile to Eastern- Europe. John and Mary had already stopped by, so had Mycroft and Graham - Graham? Gregory? George?- Lestrade. They were saying their goodbyes because they knew there was no chance he would return alive. He wasn't even going to arrive alive. He didn't want to get killed in the battle by some hired gunman. Not that a drug overdose was so much better, to be honest.

Sherlock had prepared the doses he was going to take and had prepared a list. That was the one promise he was planning on keeping, even in death.

'Sherlock?' Mrs. Hudson yelled. 'There's someone for you.'

'Let them in!' He yelled back. He was lying curled up on the leather couch, wrapped in his blue dressing gown, basically just passing the time. His plane left at 10, from London City Airport. He spent the time solving old cases in his mind palace. It was, at least, some kind of distraction.

'Hello, Sherlock.' She said softly. 'You texted.'

He opened his eyes and sat up. 'Hello, Molly. I did. Do you care for some... coffee? Please sit down.'

'Tea, please.' She answered. He stood up and awkwardly made tea. It was something he just didn't do. Molly wore a fitting black dress, a white cardigan with black bees on it. 'Bees, Molly?'

'Bees are essential for human life and our ecosystems.' She simply explained. He handed her a cuppa and sat in his chair. 'Why did you text me?'

'I wanted to say goodbye. I am leaving for Eastern Europe in the morning and I will not return. I killed Charles Augustus Magnussen, I deserved punishment.'

'No, Sherlock.' She whispered, her eyes teary. 'Please... why did you kill him?'

'He threatened to destroy everyone who matters to me.' He whispered. 'People like Magnussen should be killed.'

'You sound like Mary.' She answered.

'You knew?' He said surprised.

'Of course. We are friends. I found out by accident.' Molly answered. 'What can I do for you? I cannot provide a body that will solve everything, can I?'

Sherlock shook his head. 'This time, it isn't that simple, Molly.'

Molly stared at him intensively for a couple of seconds. He felt his heart rate going up. 'This is the end, isn't it?'

'What do you mean?'

'Drugs, Sherlock.' She said sadly. 'Your pressure point.'

'Well, your pressure point is your parents. So what?'

'How do you know?'

'The way you talk about your father.' He answered. 'I know your father did some ugly things in his career at the Secret Service, Molly. You are ashamed of those things. I am not going to speak about your mother tonight.'

'Why?' She said irritated. 'If we're going to unveil ugly truths, now is a perfect time.'

'When you leave her tonight, I want you to leave feeling okay. Not incredibly angry.' He answered. 'We all have parts of our past we don't speak about.'

Molly sighed. 'Fine.'

'What does my pressure point has to do with my exile?'

'Everything.' She answered. 'You don't think, Sherlock. Your syringes are still on the table.'

'Damn.' He swore.

'Am I right, Sherlock Holmes?' She said shakily. 'Are you going to overdose tonight or tomorrow morning on the plane?'

'I do not know.'He whispered.

Molly covered her face with her hands. He couldn't see her eyes, but he knew instinctively that she was crying.

'Promise me you won't do it.' She whispered. 'Promise me, Sherlock!"

'How can I promise it when I do not know what is going to happen tomorrow?' He asked her. 'What would you do if you were in my place? What would you do, Molly, when you are about to die?'

'Run. I would run and hide.' She answered. 'I have helped you once, I can do it again. We can fake your death and you can come back when it's safe again.'

'I can't.' He answered.

'I will stay, Sherlock. You can say all those horrible things but they aren't going to change my opinion. I am staying here, tonight. I am keeping you safe.'

Sherlock sighed, saw he couldn't convince the pathologist.

'I'm calling Mycroft.' She said.

'For God's sake.' He whispered.

'I want your list, Sherlock.' She looked threatening. 'Now.'

He gave her his list. She quickly read it.

'Are these the drugs you were planning to take or are these the ones you have already taken.'

'I have taken only the first one.' He answered. 'The others I planned to take on the airplane.'

'My Lord..' She whispered and got her phone out. 'Mycroft, please come to 221b. It's Sherlock.'

Five minutes later, Mycroft arrived. Molly handed him the list. 'He's only taken the first one.'

Mycroft looked incredibly hurt. 'Sherlock, you could have told me.'

'No.' He said grumpily. 'I couldn't.'

'I should have known what solitary confinement would do to you. I locked you up with your biggest enemy.' Mycroft said. 'I will be there for you. I promise.'

Mycroft looked at Molly. 'Can you stay here for the night? I have to take care of certain issues.'

'I can.' She answered. 'I packed a bag in case this would happen. It's in the trunk of my car. You know which one.' She gave him the keys. 'The blue Fiat 500.'

Mycroft wordlessly disappeared downstairs. 'You remember the rules, don't you, Sherlock?'

'Naturally. You are going to stay with me every minute, except for when I need to use the toilet, we are going to share a bed, you help detoxing me.'

'Indeed. We're going for a run.' She said. 'Change.'

Sherlock nodded and went to his bedroom. In the meantime, Mycroft had returned with her suitcase. 'Thank you.' She said.

'Thank you for staying with him. I have to get back to Anthea, call our parents and try to convince him to go to rehab.' Mycroft said.

'Maybe I can convince him.' Molly said. 'I know he doesn't want to go to Eastern Europe, but I will not stand here and watch him die.'

'I understand. Could you maybe go with him on the plane? I don't trust him.' Mycroft asked.

'I will think about it.' She answered. 'I am going to change, please watch him.'

She carried her suitcase upstairs to John's old room.

Mycroft was trying to make the flat safe. He took the syringes away, opened Sherlock's suitcase and soon found what he was looking for. Four bags with white and grayish substance. Molly returned faster than Sherlock did, wearing a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie and bright orange running shoes.

'Sherlock, let's go!' She knocked on his door. 'Sherlock?'

no reaction. Mycroft sighed. 'Downstairs. He hasn't got money, I suggest Regent's Park.'

Molly opened the door and saw the open window. 'Always. Why does he always do that? He knows it won't solve his problems.'

Mycroft and she went to Regents Park and found Sherlock sitting on his favorite bench under his favorite tree. 'Please, Mycroft, let me do the talking. Wait behind a tree or something.' She whispered. He understood. Molly sat down next to Sherlock. 'Hello.'

'Hello.' He said sadly.

'How do you feel?'

'Sad.' He answered.

'I understand, Sherlock.'She whispered.

'You don't.' He said.

'Why do I not understand?'

'Because you do not know the pain I feel. I am going to lose everyone.' He said.

'Why do you always wear your mask?'

'It's easier to pretend I'm not hurting.' He whispered.

'What hurts the most?' She asked.

'Losing you.' He whispered.

Molly looked at Mycroft. Mycroft looked at Molly. Speechless. Molly looked back at Sherlock. 'I wasn't expecting this answer.' She said.

'Neither was I.'

'I can say I feel the same, Sherlock. I will miss you more than anything.'

He leaned into her and kissed her.  
'Do you know how long I wanted to do this?' She whispered when they let go of each other.

'Since the day you met me?'

'Close.' She smiled and kissed him again.

'Ahm.' Mycroft said and came closer. 'Sherlock, I am going home. Molly will keep me updated.'

'Fine.' He said, not looking up. 'See you tomorrow.'

Molly stood up. 'Let's go for a run, Sherlock. We have to detox you as soon as possible.'

Running together worked. Not that they said a word to each other but they found comfort in each other's presence. They ran to the Tower Bridge and watched the London lights one last time. 'Sherlock, I don't want to run another 90 minutes to come home.' Molly said.

'I have 2 Oyster Cards.' He said. 221b had already become home to her, Molly noticed. Strange.

They spent the rest of the evening reading Shakespeare to each other and went to bed after a glass of wine. 'Molly, we have shared a bed before.' Sherlock said.

'Yes.' Molly said, fiddling with the sleeves of her pyjama top. She wore a black pyjama with bees on it. 'You sleep right, I sleep left?'

'As always.' Sherlock agreed. 'I like your pyjamas, Molly.'

Molly blushed. 'Thank you, Sherlock. She sat down on the bed. 'How do you feel?'

'I'm still high.' He answered. He sat down next to her, their hands touching.

'What did our kiss mean to you?' Molly asked, staring at his lips.

'Everything.' He whispered and kissed her again.

Molly pulled him into a tight embrace and let the tears stream down her cheeks. He never let go of her.

'Hey, shhh, Molly.' Sherlock said. 'Go to sleep, it will be all right.'

'I don't want to lose you.' She whispered. 'Not now we are...'

'In a relationship.' Sherlock finished her sentence. 'I love you, Molly Hooper.'

'I love you too.' She whispered.

'Sleep, my love.' He said.

'When you wake up, will you be there?'

'I will be.' He promised.

* * *

The next morning woke Molly up to the smell of toast. She wrapped herself in her bathrobe and went to the kitchen. Sherlock had prepared them a complete and luxurious breakfast.

'This smells amazing, Sherlock.'

'I wanted to have this one last time.' He said. 'You, me, the breakfast we always have when we have a sleepover at your place.' He got a small box out of his pocket. 'This is a locket that belonged to my grandmother. It is intended for the woman I love.' Molly opened the box.

'It's beautiful, Sherlock. Can you put it on?'

He nodded. 'Thank you.' She whispered. 'I don't know how I feel.'

'Neither do I, Molly.' He answered. 'Just enjoy your breakfast and be ready by 8.'

They ate their breakfast in silence. 'I'm going to come with you to Eastern Europe.' Molly said. 'At least, I'm going to be on the same flight.'

'I appreciate your kindness.'

Molly smiled. 'You should, I'm your girlfriend now.'

Sherlock smiled. 'My girlfriend..'

'Well, get off your arse and dress yourself. I enjoy looking at you wearing just your pyjama pants and a loose dressing gown but I don't think Mycroft will.' She laughed.

Sherlock smiled.

* * *

Molly had searched his luggage and had called Mycroft every two hours. The drugs were gone and destroyed. 'How is he?'

'Better.' Molly said. 'Detoxed. He's showering now.'

'What one kiss can do for him...' Mycroft said.

'You were happy too when you kissed Anthea for the first time, Myc.'

'That's different. I kissed her when I knew we had a future. You two start something knowing he will be gone in a few hours.'

'No.' She said. 'We love each other. That is all that matters.'

Sherlock came out of the bathroom, completely dressed. 'Are you ready, Molly?'

'Yes.' Molly answered. 'We are ready.'

* * *

'To the very best of times, John.' Sherlock shook John's hand and entered the plane. Molly sat down next to him and held his hand.

'I am incredibly grateful for you.' Sherlock whispered into Molly's ear. The plane took off.

'I hate this part.' She said. 'I always get travel sickness.'

'Poor you.' He said. Her head rested on his shoulder and he relaxed a bit.

After four minutes Sherlock's phone rang. Molly answered the call.

'Hello?'

'Hello, Molly. It's Mycroft. Can I speak to Sherlock?'

'I put him on speaker.' She answered.

'Hello, little brother.' Mycroft said. 'How is the exile going?'

'I have only been gone _four_ minutes.'

'Well, I certainly hope you've learned your lesson. As it turns out, you're needed.'

Molly and Sherlock exchanged glances. 'Oh for God's up your mind. Who needs me this time?'

'England.' Mycroft said. 'It's Moriarty. He is back.'

_Did you miss me?_


End file.
